Genesis
by zunaira ghazal
Summary: In which Mama falls sick, and Papa is away. Post Canon. SasuSakuSara


For Sarada, Mama was the ultimate hero—invincible, indestructible, indomitable. Mama was a rock. So the day, the shivers came and the sniffles started, she was more than a little startled, because mama never got sick.

It started suddenly, when she was reading a book on the sofa in the corner of mama's office at the hospital. Out of the blue, she dropped the pen on the book she was reading and pinched the bridge of her nose. Alarmed, Sarada sat up and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, sweetie. I'm fine."

It wasn't fine, obviously, Sarada thought, because Mama's fingers were still pinching her nose. But she shrugged it off as one of those moments when Mama couldn't figure out a problem and went back to reading her book again. Ten minutes later when a team of genin with serious injuries showed up at the emergency, Sarada watched as her mama power walked out the office with a straight spine and a purpose in the gait.

Papa was not home—again, Sarada thought with just a tiny bit of resentment, so she couldn't go home. So she settled herself more comfortably on the couch and thought of how she was going to kick his ass the next time he showed up. It was a long time before Mama returned and by then, Sarada had already fallen asleep on the couch.

"Wake up, sweetheart," Mama whispered in her ear, and she sat up groggily.

"W'at time 's it?" she asked while rubbing her eyes. The room was dark so she could only make out Mama's silhouette moving about gathering stuff.

"Late. Mama is sorry for keeping you so late," she said as Sarada got up from the couch and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Mama collected her things, came around her desk and bent down to kiss her on the forehead, on both her cheeks and then her nose. Blushing, Sarada scowled a little in embarrassment and turned her head away.

Mama giggled and took her hand. It was a little warmer than usual but Sarada didn't let go. Their pace down home was slow, and every so often Mama would slow down to catch her breath. Sarada chalked it up to chakra depletion—her Mama was very prone to not taking care of self, she thought gravely. Halfway home, Mama's hand started shaking in hers. A little alarmed now, Sarada looked up and found tiny tremors running down Mama's body.

"Mama! Are you alright." She asked carefully, a little trickle of panic running down her spine now.

Breathing a little heavily, Mama managed to smile at her. "I'm fine, baby. Just a little tired."

Sarada pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and tried to keep the spook out of her voice. "You don't look fine. Lets hurry home, ok?" She took mama's hand and began leading her home, her feet automatically moving a little faster. She heard mama laugh a little behind her and her shoulders relaxed a little. Still, she hurried home, and it was a good thing, she thought, her mind a little blank with panic, because as soon as they hit the porch, there was a quiet thump, and Mama's hand in her own went limp.

**xxx**

If asked to define the most horrible moment in her life, Uchiha Sarada would probably scoff in your face and stare at you like you were created for the sole purpose of licking the dirt off the bottom of her shoes and with just a _look_, convey the words; _how dare you even have the audacity to speak to me, of me, that way._

But, if you were lucky enough to be a close friend, or Ino-baa-chan, she would cave and tell you the truth; when Papa left for the first time in her conscious state of mind. And she never let anyone know. Not even Mama, but she probably knew anyway.

Now, staring at the limp form of her mother right on their porch, Sarada had an epiphany; a blind sort of realization that only comes when you stare certain disaster in the face. Papa's was already a rare enough presence, what if she lost Mama too? What if this was it? What if this was her last day with her mother and she'd slept it away? _I should've trailed her, _she thought, mind dizzy with panic. _What if she dies? _Her mind screamed, and her breathing labored, her breath became short, her eyes started to sting and throat clogged like a fist had just lodged there. Briefly in her mind, flitted the thought that Mama was still breathing; that she should probably do something to help her. But her feet were rooted to the ground and unbidden, tears had started falling down her face.

_Breath,_ she told herself. _Move._ Slowly, she forced her feet to move forward. Sobbing freely now, she kneeled in front of Mama, and put two fingers to the side of her throat—the jugular, her mind provided. Just like Mama had taught her, she felt the pulse; a little faster than usual, skin sticky with sweat, and a heat radiating off her skin. In an instant Sarada felt dizzy with relief, started sobbing harder and clutched her Mama's hand to her chest for reassurance. It was a fever—she'd probably felt twinges before; Sarada remembered the nose-pinching, and had probably worsened as she'd worked herself to exhaustion in the Emergency.

When her breathing became a little stable, she started the laborious task of dragging Mama into the house. At the door she fished the keys out of Mama's pouch, opened the door and maneuvered Mama into the house. Breathing a little hard, she slipped her glasses up her nose and began to make a game plan; there was no way she'd be able to get Mama to the bed on her own, and Papa wasn't here—she felt such a twinge of anger for him, her chest burned a little. In that moment, a part of her heart truly hated him. She forced the anger aside, albeit with a little difficulty and noticed that Mama was having trouble breathing with her nose. Losing her composure once again, she did the only thing her scrambled mind could think of; she called Ino-obaa-chan.

To her credit, Ino-obaa-chan didn't panic in the slightest when she heard Sarada's muddled, apprehensive explanation. "I'll be there in five, baby," she said, and hung up. Sarada exhaled a little in relief as she put the phone down. Mama was still lying on the floor, but she'd thrown an afghan over her.

True to her word, Ino-obaa-chan arrived shortly. From her perch in the doorway she quickly took stock of the situation, her gaze critically analyzing Mama. Then she bent down solemnly and put the back of her hand on Mama's forehead, assessing her temperature. She pursed her lips and exhaled a sigh of a warrior going to battle. Sarada's heart was in her throat as she asked, "Whats wrong?"

As if coming out of trance, Obaa-chan's gaze snapped to her's and her eyes visibly softened.

"Just a fever," she replied. "Help me move her, sweetie?"

Sarada nodded and awkwardly pulled up Mama up from the ankles as Ino-obaa-chan carried most of her weight from the front. Together they moved her towards the bedroom where Sarada took off her shoes and Ino-obaa-chan tucked the blankets around her. Mama didn't stir. Sarada's heart leapt into her throat and her eyes stung again. She watched as Ino-obaa-chan took out her medical pouch and after a bit of shuffling, took out a digital thermometer and stuck it in Mama's ear. They both waited with baited breath for a few moments and when Ino-oba-chan finally pulled out the thermometer and checked the reading her eyes narrowed and a frown touched her lips.

"A hundered and four degrees!" she murmured at Mama's prone form. "What were you doing all day, you stupid Forehead!"

Feeling compelled to defend her Mama in her…state of unconsciousness, Sarada spoke up, almost involuntarily, "There was an emergency Ino-oba-chan! She had to go!"

Ino's eyes softened when she looked at Sarada. She opened her arms, beckoning her into a hug and Sarada all but ran into her arms. Feeling the warmth of the hug, Sarada felt tears prick her eyes again, and suddenly she was crying again. "I was so—scared!" she sobbed. "I was—so—sca—red. I thought she died! She just—fell down! I—I—I was—so scared!"

Ino-obaa-chan held her close, ran her hands through her hair and rubbed soothing circles on her back. After an eternity, when Sarada had let out all the dread, cried all the fear out, she held her back by the shoulders, looked into her eyes solemnly, and said, "You've been such a brave girl, baby." And as Sarada's lip wobbled again, she pulled her to her chest again.

When all the sobbing was done, reassurances were made and a distinct lack of male presence was critiqued upon, Ino-obaa-chan finally injected Mama's arm with antibiotics, and went into the kitchen to make something to eat, and inform Sai-jiji that she'd be staying over tonight. Sarada was grateful. She kissed Mama's still hot cheek, tucked the blanket under her chin and opened the window. In the depths of the night she blew a whistle, and a moment later a hawk perched on the sill in front of her. It was their fail safe, for moments when an important message was to be relayed to Papa, and Papa alone. Sarada supposed this was adequate emergency. From a drawer she took out a piece of paper, wrote two words, and secured it on the hawk. "Hurry," she whispered. It nipped the side of her hair affectionately, and promptly took to the sky.

Ino-obaa-chan made Sarada a light meal and that night, they both slept next to Mama, her in the middle of them both.

**xxx**

The next day, while Ino-obaa-chan sent word to the hospital of the Head's leave and was making breakfast, Mama woke up. A flu had become companion to her fever, which still hadn't broken, so she was still delirious. Sarada hugged her tight, and kissed her on the forehead while Ino-obaa-chan chattered worriedly and fed her some scary looking pills.

"You should eat something," Ino-obaa-chan ordered and promptly went to the kitchen to warm something up. Mama looked a little lost, so Sarada held her hand and kissed her knuckles. "Baby," she croaked, with a smile and Sarada nodded and held on tighter, "I'm sorry for making you worry." She squeezed Sarada's hand and Sarada nodded bravely, held in the tears. A few moments later, she was asleep again, but this time, Sarada's heart was clenched a little less with worry.

**xxx**

That night Ino-oba-chan stayed with them again. It was the middle of the night, when Sarada heard the rattle of the door, the creaking on the steps. She turned to Ino-oba-chan, who's eyes were already open and lips were twisted in a scowl so ferocious Sarada understood it could only be one person—Papa.

She was simultaneously relieved and a little scared—of Ino-obaa-chan ripping Papa to shreds. Now that the initial bout of terror had subsided and Mama was a little better, all the anger seemed to have seeped out of her. Her Oba-chan, on the other hand had no such problems; she got out of bed and marched out of the room, hair bellowing like a fiery halo behind her. She looked, Sarada thought, a little awed, like a goddess with a vendetta. For a moment, she feared for her Papa's life, then she heard Mama wheeze a little in her sleep, scowled, and decided Papa would deserve all the crap Ino-obaa-chan was about to dish. Smirking, she got out of bed and followed in the steps of the hurricane that was her favorite Obaa-chan.

She found them in the foyer, Ino's hands on her hips, a magnificent scowl marring her beautiful face while Papa blinked owlishly and looked a little worse for wear.

"How DARE you!" Ino-obaa-chan hissed. "HOW DARE you, you little piece of crap!" she hissed again and loomed over Papa—yes, loomed, Sarada observed, impressed. Her anger had given Ino-oba-chan an oomph that was making Papa lean back a little on his feet.

Finally gaining a little of his composure, Papa scowled back at her. "Yamanaka." He nodded in acknowledgement.

Ino-obaa-chan _seethed._ Sarada looked on as she sputtered in indignation before kicking Papa in the shin. To his credit, Papa neither dodged nor winced, which only made Oba-chan more angry. "She DROPPED down!" She finally said in a raised voice. "My best friend DROPPED unconscious and your child was terrified to death!" She spit at him. Sarada's cheeks warmed, her throat closing again. She inhaled sharply as Papa finally looked at her and neatly averted his gaze.

"At least have the decency to be there for your family! Maybe THAT would be your redemption!" She gave him a final shove and marched back to the room. Sarada watched as her Papa exhaled wearily and rubbed a hand over his face. Giving him a moment to compose himself, she went back to Mama and saw Ino-oba-chan was lying on the bed, a protective arm around Mama's waist grinding her teeth in anger.

She sighed and went back to the living room where Papa now silently sat on the sofa, looking forlorn and world weary. The lump in her throat got a little larger as she sat down beside him. She swallowed once, twice and tried to speak past it. Papa beat her to it.

"Sarada," he spoke gently. "Please."

She looked at him then, and saw such raw emotion in his one visible eye that her own composure broke. In one giant leap, she flew across the couch, threw herself in his arms and sobbed freely. Papa wrapped her up tightly in his arms and held her close. She felt his hands running through her hair and sobbed harder. In between sniffles she finally managed to get out the words, "Why do you go away! I was so scared!"

He held her tighter. "Papa is sorry."

She cried harder. After a few minutes, when the tears had run out and her nose had stopped running she rested her head more comfortably in the crook of his neck and held on tighter. "I thought she died when she fell," she said softly.

Papa inhaled sharply. After a moment he gently pried her from his embrace and held her face between his hands—one wrapped in bandages. He slipped his thumbs under her glasses and wiped the moisture away. Then he looked at her and Sarada _felt_ the love in his gaze. "Papa is sorry," he said again. "Papa is sorry that you had to go through that alone. Papa is sorry for being a sorry excuse of a Papa. Even though you have every right to withhold it, Papa would like it if you'd forgive him?"

Sarada had always observed that her Papa had a serendipitous panache for understated dramatics; he would pause a little theatrically between sentences, look at people with intense eyes. He exuded drama, quite unaware of it, mostly in his silences. It always amused Sarada to no end. But now, he was being dramatic with words, trying to avoid the root of the problem. So she rolled her eyes affectionately, and crossed her arms over her chest. If her leg had been long enough, or if she were standing, her foot would have been tapping impatiently on the floor. "Aaand?" she prompted imperiously.

Papa cocked his head a little. "And?" he asked, a little baffled.

Sarada scowled at him. "This happened because you're not home enough," she started, her tone resembling that of a parent reprimanding their petulant child. "So," she continued, "I will forgive Papa if he stays home more."

Papa looked a little amused. "But the Hokage needs Papa to do missions for him. How else would Papa feed you and Mama?"

She rolled her eyes in the universal gesture of _o' please_ and looked at him imperiously. "Mama has a job. You don't need one. Also, missions aren't the only time you leave," she gave him a pointed look, bordering on wounded.

Papa sighed and squared his shoulders. Sarada took the gesture as a premonition of a verbal battle and took a deep breath. She was surprised when Papa simply reached out and took her hand. "Alright," he said. "Alright."

"Huh?" she said eloquently.

Papa smiled, as always more in the eyes and less from his mouth. "Aa. Papa will try to stay home more—with you, and with Mama," he promised.

Sarada examined his face for a few moments, looking for signs of deceit. Then she nodded carefully. "We'll see," she said, and Sasuke distinctly heard the undertones of _you better_ and _or else._

**_xxx_**

When they went to see Mama a few moments later, Sarada found that Ino-obaa-chan had fallen asleep with her arms around Mama. Sarada could almost hear Papa scoffing at her. However he didn't say anything out loud and with silent footsteps he sat on Mama's bedside and put a hand on her forehead to check her temperature. A light sheen of sweat was covering her face now—which meant the fever was breaking, Sarada knew. Papa nodded to himself a little absently and put a wet cloth on her head from the bowl Ino-obaa-chan had apparently forgotten in her anger. He swept a few strands of hair from her face and tucked the blanket around her sides.

From her perch in the doorway, Sarada couldn't help but smile.

**xxx**

To say that Sakura was surprised to wake up wrapped in the arms of Yamanaka Ino was quite an understatement. Her sluggish mind could barely make out the details of the room, she was having difficulty breathing through her nose and her throat was parched as hell. But the thing that surprised her the most was a warm hand clutching her own and a solid weight on the very edge of the bed. When she strained her head a little she made out the disheveled form of her husband—her husband who wasn't due home for another two weeks, her husband who was supposed to be helping an earthquake smitten village on the very edges of Fire Country.

Feeling a little bewildered she tried to get up. Her head swam. She swallowed thickly and laid down again. It only took a few more moments for her mind to drift back to sleep again.

When she woke up again, she felt a small weight on her abdomen and had to only move her head a little to see Sarada wrapped around her middle.

"You're up," she heard a deep voice and turned her head to a very tired husband, now lying on her other side.

"Sasuke-kun?" she managed to croak.

"Aa." He gave her a stern look.

She blinked. Her head was a little clear now, but her body was drenched in sweat. She remembered the Chakra Exhaustion, falling down…the rest was a little blurry. "What're you doing here?"

"You fell ill. Unconscious," he said in reply. "Sarada was worried," he chided gently.

She looked at the tiny form at her side, breathing gently, and frowned, feeling contrite. "Ah. I'm sorry." She turned and wound her arms around Sarada, buried her face in her hair and inhaled deeply. She felt another, larger set of arms wrap around her from behind and couldn't help but smile.

"_Okaeri_, Papa."

A pause.

"_Tadaima_, Mama."

**xxx**

fin


End file.
